


Addiction

by cedarmoons



Series: Setting Fires [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Cullen, Breathplay, F/M, Sexual Solas, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5180789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarmoons/pseuds/cedarmoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the kinkmeme. Evelyn just wants to sex up a certain apostate. Fate makes it a little harder for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> Kinkmeme prompt: "Solas and F!Trevelyan are engaging in carefully negotiated and mutually agreed upon breathplay during sex. Queue someone walking in on them and- It looks bad. Like, really bad."
> 
> I CANNOT STOP
> 
> this is the same evelyn + solas as [Punch Drunk Kiss](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4926637).

The dress was a beautiful creation: all wispy silks and silvery gossamer, threaded through in Inquisition colors of black and white and gold, skirts swirling around her ankles with every step. Her hair was done up in a hairnet, glittering with diamonds—a gift from King Markus of Antiva himself, to match the Tevinter ambassador’s gift of a diamond ring.

The dress’s best feature, in Evelyn’s humble opinion, was the fact that it made her tits look  _fantastic._

The dress was also currently rucked up to her hips, exposing the lacy black panties she’d worn under it. Her high collar was half-unbuttoned so Solas could suck on her neck, and more than several strands of her hair had come undone from the hairnet.

She had lured him here with honeyed words and dark-eyed promises, and now he was about to fuck her against a tapestry of Andraste. Somehow, whenever she was alone with the man, she ended up getting pinned to things. Evelyn wasn’t complaining—she loved fucking Solas, and Solas loved fucking her. A match made in heaven, honestly, if she wasn’t always trying to make him lose control.

She tightened her thighs’ grip on his waist and lifted her hips, grinding down on the straining tent in his pants. Solas moaned against her throat, then punished her with another lovebite, even as he rutted against her, almost as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Wicked woman,” he murmured, and the hand resting beside her head drifted down her body to stroke the crease of her thigh. Her breath caught in anticipation and Solas lifted his head. His lips were wet and bruised from their fierce, biting kisses, and his eyes were so dilated there was only a thin ring of midnight blue around his pupil.

Evelyn only bit her lip, the gesture shyly virginal though her eyes burned with lust, and stroked his ear. He shuddered, his hands gripping her ass on reflex. An involuntary response of pleasure, she had learned long ago, but she loved doing it to him. She loved how the act made Solas that much hungrier for her, without fail.

He surged forward, covering her kiss-bruised lips with his own, swallowing her moan as hungrily as a starving man. He pinned her harder against the wall as his tongue stroked hers, so he could remove one of his hands from her ass. She wanted to whine at the cold air that replaced his palm, but her disapproval stuttered into a hitched breath when those same fingers stroked the crease of her thigh, dangerously close to her cunt. 

He laughed, and his thumb circled her inner thigh. “Are you wet for me, I wonder?” he asked, and she nodded, her hands on his shoulders tightening. When her hips shifted restlessly again, he pinned her against the tapestry of Andraste and gripped her hip, trapping her in place. “Do you want me to take you, here, against a depiction of your holy prophet? Make you scream my name as you come until you cannot think but for the pleasure?”

His husky words went straight to her cunt. She nodded again, breathless, and her fingers dug into his shoulders when his thumb slipped under her smalls and pulled it to the side, leaving her exposed to his touch. She could not press her thighs together to quell the throbbing ache between her legs, so she ground against him, a desperate, quiet noise escaping her lips when he didn’t react. “Please,” she whispered, arching her back and shifting her hips in a vain attempt to get closer. Oh, she was going to pay him back for this. She was going to make him beg until he sobbed.

Her thoughts of Solas begging blanked out when his finger traced her seam and dipped between her folds. He exhaled when he felt how wet she was, his eyes snapping up to hers. Evelyn’s mouth dried at the naked lust in his eyes. “Beautiful,” he half-snarled, surging forward to kiss her as his finger thrust inside her. He kissed her greedily, biting and sucking until her lips were red and wet and her face was flushed. Between his tongue, the heel of his palm grinding against her clit, and his finger pumping in and out of her, Evelyn couldn’t keep up with the sensations shivering across her body.

She broke the kiss with a cry when he added a second finger, throwing her head against the tapestry and panting his name. Her hips moved in tandem with his hand, fucking herself on his fingers, and it felt so damned  _good_ —she could feel herself building, but she wasn’t quite there. She needed more.

“Solas,” she gasped, her head turning into the tapestry. Her body was trapped by his, pinned too tightly to thrash as she usually did. All she could do instead was toss her head and chase her release. “Solas, I need—”

“Ssh. I know.” He kissed the lobe of her ear, and when he withdrew his hand entirely, she almost sobbed. Her cunt clenched at nothing, throbbing with want, aching for his touch. He kissed her temple, and his fingers returned, two fingers plunging into her and thumb pressing hard against her clit. All three digits vibrated with gentle electricity. He crooked his fingers, brushing against that secret spot that made her sob, and the hand on her waist stroked up her spine. “Come for me, vhenan'ara.”

She cried his name as she came, her muscles clenching and back arching as her hips bucked into his touch. Heat and pleasure washed over her skin in long, intermingling waves that made her nerves sing. He guided her through it, and when she came back to herself, trembling, he smiled at her.

“You are so beautiful,” he said. He raised his hand, shining with her slick, but she caught his wrist before he could clean himself. She brought his hand to her mouth, meeting his gaze as she took his fingers into her mouth and licked them clean. Solas watched her in silence, nothing betraying his calm but his dilated eyes and his sharp, ragged breaths. She sucked them once, hollowing out her cheeks, and released his fingers with a wet pop and a smug grin.

He shook his head, and his lips replaced his fingertips, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips until she opened for him and he deepened the kiss. He cupped the back of her head, his fingers half-threading through her hair but meeting resistance from the hairnet's chain. He broke the kiss, frowning at the silver between his fingers with obvious disapproval.

Evelyn couldn’t stop her disappointed breath, and she rolled against him. Her need to have him inside her was a physical ache. Solas sucked in a breath through his teeth and sent her a look that made shivers tingle down her spine. “A beautiful hairnet,” he commented, ignoring her attempts to unravel his control. “But I would rather you were not wearing it. If I could, I would have my hands in your hair—”

She snuck her left hand hand down his tunic, her skin sliding across his jumping muscles, and pressed her palm against his arousal. Solas’s eyes screwed shut as he rested his forehead against hers. He grabbed her wrist in an instant and pinned it to the tapestry, just above Andraste’s holy flame.

“Do not tempt me,” Solas warned, lifting half-hooded eyes to hers, and the gravel in his voice made a ghost of friction throb between her legs.

“What if your hand was around my throat, instead?” she offered, her voice low. Shock flitted over his face, but the surprise in his gaze soon gave way to smoldering heat.

“Ma nuvenin,” he purred, and her heart began to race.

Without a word, he lowered the hand he’d pressed to the tapestry to his tunic, and she balled her hands in his shirt, as tight as she could. “You remember what to do?” he asked, as his hand disappeared between their hips to finally—finally!—undo his laces.

Evelyn nodded, her mouth dry at the thought of what was about to come. “You remember the spell?” she asked. He nodded. His hand curled around the nape of her neck. “Good,” she said, and leaned forward to scrape her teeth down his ear. “Now fuck me.”

Solas growled as he pushed her against the wall again, his thumb leaving her nape to press into the hollow of her throat. She inhaled on instinct, collecting as much air as she could, and she grinned at him when she felt his cock press against her entrance.

Solas kissed her as he sheathed himself in one thrust, smothering her gasp as his thumb pressed harder into her throat. She could feel her pulse jumping at his touch and tightened her grip on his shirt, turning her head and returning his kiss with equal fierceness. They were a fire, she and Solas, and one day they would burn themselves out.

But until then, she would embrace the heat and sear his soul in return. 

She lifted her hips as he drove into her, his thrusts sharp and deep, and when his other hand wrapped around the slender column of her throat, she moaned. He tightened his hold, the pads of his thumbs pressing down on her blood vessels, and she swallowed hard, clenching her walls around his cock.

He hissed, and the next time he kissed her he bit her lip. His cock was perfect inside her, thick and hitting every spot that made her keen, and he fucked her with frantic need. Her lungs were beginning to ache, and as his thumbs pressed against her fluttering pulse points she grew more and more lightheaded. Her eyes beaded with tears, and when she blinked, twin drops ran down her cheeks to hug her jawline.

When he pulled away to kiss her tears, he allowed her to suck in one breath—one measly breath that only half-filled her lungs—and then he was kissing her again, his tongue tasting like frosting and cocoa. Void take her, but she couldn’t get enough of him. She couldn’t release his shirt to cup the back of his head, lest their little game be up, so she settled for tightening her grip on his shirt and pulling him closer.

Solas broke away with a gasp, and his thrusts slowed from rapid staccatos to long, deliciously agonizing drags. “Look at me, Evelyn,” he said, his voice dark and irresistible. Evelyn obeyed, spots swimming in front of her eyes. 

Her chest was heaving, but her lungs couldn’t quite drag in enough air. Her world was bright, and her lack of air heightened every sensation Solas inflicted on her—the torturous slide of his cock, his skin against hers, his lips inhaling hers in demanding kisses. Evelyn locked eyes with him as he rolled his hips, and if she wasn’t gasping for breath she would have moaned. “Are you close?” he asked, eyes half-lidded and lips pursed. He relaxed his hand around her throat, and she inhaled sharply, taking in as much air as she could. “Are you close for me?”

She was more than close. She just needed—she needed— _Please,_  she wanted to say, but she didn’t have the breath. _Please, Solas, make me come, I need—_

Solas seemed to know what she craved. He adjusted his grip so one hand was around her throat, and his free hand came down to rub furiously against her clit. Evelyn came with a hoarse cry, clenching around his cock, white spots bursting behind her eyes as pleasure crested over her. Solas returned the hand below her skirts to her throat, heightening the ecstasy thrumming through her body. She shook in his arms, her hands releasing his shirt. Solas felt her hands go slack and loosened the pressure on her throat.

But then Solas stilled inside her, before he'd had the chance to lower his hands. If she could have, she would have whined and asked him to keep going. But his eyes were pure panic. The afterglow of her orgasm ended abruptly as she wheezed, “Solas—”

His eyes flicked back to her, and then she heard Cullen and Cassandra’s voices.

Solas was still hard inside her, his hands still wrapped around her throat. Before she could tell him to lower his hands, she saw Cullen and Cassandra in the corner of her eye. The warrior duo had been discussing something since they’d left the War Room—that could be the only place, since Solas had locked the door to Josephine’s office—but at the sight of them, they stopped dead.

“Inquisitor?” Cassandra gasped, horrified. Cullen looked ill. Evelyn pictured what they must be seeing.

Skirt bunched around her hips. Collar unbuttoned, almost half torn-off. Tearstains on her cheeks. Her hands on his chest, balled into fists. His hands around her throat. Based on the horror in their eyes, they had only come to the worst conclusion.

Oh,  _dammit._

Solas was the first one to react. He released Evelyn at once and pulled out of her, turning around quickly to tuck himself back into his trousers. Evelyn’s legs landed on the floor, still trembling from her orgasm, and she gasped for breath, her hand clutching at the tapestry of Andraste to stay upright.

Cullen was at her side in an instant, his warm hand on her shoulder, steadying her. Cassandra still seemed too stunned to react. “We’ll take care of this, Inquisitor,” Cullen assured her. She gaped up at him, her hand at her throat. She couldn’t do anything but inhale, sharply, in a desperate attempt to get enough air.

“Cullen—” she tried. Her voice was too hoarse to sound like anything but a squeak. Cullen didn’t even hear her. He turned on his heel and strode toward Solas, one of his hands on the pommel of his sword. “Cullen!” she said, louder, and her voice was less hoarse as she caught her breath.

Solas turned around, as if he could sense Cullen ready to protect her honor. His eyes flicked to her, his gaze unreadable. “Commander,” he greeted, somehow calm and steady. “I assure you that this is not—”

Evelyn stepped forward, but Cassandra put a gloved hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?” the warrior asked, finding her voice at last.

The slide of a sword against its scabbard rang in her ears. Cullen had unsheathed his sword and leveled it at Solas’s throat. Evelyn shoved Cassandra’s hand off and gulped in a mouthful of air. 

“Are you going to tell me you weren’t  _raping_  the Inquisitor? Tell me why I should not run you through!”

“ _Cullen Stanton Rutherford!_ ” Evelyn shouted. Her voice was reedy, still recovering from the sex, but loud enough that her words echoed slightly in the hall. Cullen looked over his shoulder, only to find the irate Inquisitor striding toward him. She slipped between Solas and Cullen and put a hand on each man’s chest, pushing them away from each other. She narrowed her eyes at her Commander. “You put that back where it came from!  _Now!_ ”

She inhaled, sharply, her heartbeat roaring in her ears and her lungs still aching for air. She fisted her hand in Solas’s tunic and released it just as quickly as she’d grabbed it. Thankfully, Solas understood—he was there in a moment, a hand on her chest and a hand on her back. Cullen and Cassandra both started, but Evelyn held up a hand, stopping them both. Solas murmured a spell under his breath, and as his fingertips glowed with magic, she drew in a shaky, albeit easier, breath.

Soon she was able to breathe normally, and she turned to the two confused warriors. “I can explain,” she said. “Solas was—it wasn’t—I asked him to.” 

Cullen slowly sheathed his sword, obviously very confused. “You asked him to choke you?” he asked, furrowing his brows. Behind him, Cassandra was flushed red, staring at the tapestry of Andraste with wide, horrified eyes.

“It wasn’t choking,” Evelyn said, feeling her face heat. Oh, Maker. She could get through this. She would never look Cullen or Cassandra in the eye again, but she could do it. “I don’t like choking. Hurts my throat. He was—squeezing my blood vessels, or something, I don’t know, it’s a better technique. Makes the sex better.”

“So you wanted to… in the hallway in front of the War Room?” Cassandra asked. “Against a tapestry of  _Andraste_?”

“We were unaware the War Room was occupied,” Solas supplied. He did not comment on Andraste, but Evelyn could feel his subtle smirk without looking. She shot him a glare out of the corner of her eye. Yep, he was smirking. Andraste’s tits, he wasn’t making this any easier for her.

“Yes—Josephine did call for a two hour recess with the negotiations between Tevinter and Nevarra. The negotiations were in the War Room, so we assumed…”

“But Andraste?” Cassandra repeated. She looked away, her face a deeper crimson than Evelyn’s. “Was that truly necessary?”

Evelyn didn’t have an answer for that. She shifted her weight, fastened her eyes on the wall opposite her, and willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

It didn’t happen. 

Ah, well. She still needed to deal with Corypheus anyway. Though if Corypheus had arrived to destroy the world at that moment, she probably would have thanked him.

Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “So this was… a misunderstanding,” he ventured, cautious and staring at his feet.

“Quite,” Solas supplied, dryly. Evelyn elbowed him. He caught her arm and ran his thumb up her bare bicep, sending shivers down her spine. Cassandra noticed it, and, clearing her throat, re-focused on a particularly interesting pile of bricks in the corner of the hallway.

Evelyn didn’t blame her. She thought that, at that moment, the rubble was the most fascinating thing in Skyhold. She cleared her throat and looked at Cullen, who was still looking at his shoes. “I do appreciate you defending my honor, Cullen,” she said, and the Commander rubbed the back of his neck, still avoiding her gaze. She clapped her hands and forced a bright smile. “That being said, um, I suggest we forget about this. Immediately.”

“Agreed,” Cassandra and Cullen said. Cullen stepped around her, the thud of his boots echoing on stone as he made his way to the door. There was an awkward moment when he had to unlock it, but then the Commander was gone. Cassandra followed him, but she lingered in the doorway.

The warrior’s gaze flicked between Evelyn and Solas, then back to the tapestry. Evelyn forced a weak grin when the Seeker looked back at her. “Just like that one time in Swords and Shields, right? Right?” Evelyn asked.

Cassandra turned scarlet, made a disgusted noise, and saw herself out.

Well, none of them would look at each other for a week. But it could have been much, _much_ worse. And so Evelyn counted this terrible encounter as a victory.

When the hall was empty save for herself and Solas, Evelyn felt her shoulders slump. “I am so sorry,” she said, turning around. Solas was staring at her; his expression was neutral, so neutral she knew he was keeping his thoughts to himself. “I should have checked the War Room. That was my fault—”

“You defended me,” Solas said, softly. “I did not expect you to do such a thing.”

Evelyn approached him until they were half an arm’s length from each other. She stared at him, trying to figure out what to say, and then she smiled. She reached up to cup his cheek, then pressed a gentle peck to his lips. As she pulled away, she said, “However I had to, remember?”

Solas stared at her, something awestruck in his unguarded expression. Evelyn didn’t blame him; the gesture felt strange and foreign to her, too. Theirs was a relationship built off of mutual satisfaction, not affection. They were both creatures to their own desires. They never touched each other for the fun of it, not unless it led to some form of sex. “Tender touches” was a new, different chapter in their story.

 _I think I like it,_ Evelyn thought, and then shook her head.

That was sentimentality speaking. Evelyn Trevelyan didn’t _do_ sentimentality.

So it was with a smirk that she palmed him through his breeches and changed the mood immediately. He was still hard, and the feel of his cock straining against his breeches reawakened the lust pulsing through her. Evelyn stood on her tiptoes to nip at a sensitive part of his jaw. “I’ve still got an hour. What do you say we finish where we left off?”

Solas groaned as she firmed her touch, his eyes falling shut for a moment. The next heartbeat he opened his eyes and cast a quick glance towards the tapestry of Andraste. Evelyn grinned against his throat and dipped a finger into the waistband of his pants.

“Wicked man,” she purred, grinning, and let him lead her to the tapestry.


End file.
